


Prom?

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, HSAU, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 12:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4829531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Fluffy mavin HSAU? (Like kissing and stuffs c: )</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prom?

   Gavin loved how Michael had convinced the coach to let him have “Mogar” rather than his surname, “Jones”, on the back of his football jersey. He loved the sight of Michael’s legs overtaking each other as he ran. He loved watching his arms raise above his head in a victory punch, his fingers curled to fists – fingers that would later graze Gavin’s and skim his own skin as they made out in Michael’s attic room. Gavin loved at the end of a game when Michael would take off his helmet and shake out the auburn curls that Gavin so loved to grab in heated moments, and expose the freckles that he so loved to count when he should’ve been paying attention in class. He loved waiting for Michael’s eyes to find his from where he observed from the bleachers, and the wink Michael would give him that promised a rendezvous later, and the way the lips he couldn’t wait to kiss would curve into a delicious smile, the sight of his teeth reminding him of the hickeys that burned various, hidden parts of Gavin’s torso – his shoulders, his chest, his waist.

   Gavin didn’t understand the first thing about football, but he still watched every match and practise session for all those reason. You’d think that common sense would give him a grasp of the basic rules of the game after seeing it played so many times, but maybe all those reasons held him back from noticing anything productive. All he knew was that if Michael had the ball he should be cheering.

   He realised with a jolt, after a minute or so of phasing out and thinking back to Michael whispering those three little words for the very first time in his ear last night, that Michael was cheering – as was the rest of his team – and his helmet was coming off. Practise was over. He stood up, meaning to run down and meet his boyfriend, but pausing when Michael dripped his helmet on the floor, pulled his top off, and threw down his shoulder pads. And there, written plain as day on his chest with body paint: the one worded question ‘ _prom?’._

   He froze entirely, his face flushing as all eyes turned to him, not just Michael’s but his football buddies and everyone sitting on the bleachers. Up until then Gavin’s and Michael’s relationship had been a pretty private thing, with only their close friends really knowing anything about it. But now here Michael was at the edge of the field with a substantial audience, two quarterback’s grabbing him by a leg each and hoisting him up in case anyone missed it the first time whilst everyone on the pitch held their arms outstretched towards him dramatically, looking expectantly at Gavin with eager smiles.

   “Gavin!” Michael grinned. “Don’t leave me hanging, buddy!”

   “Jesus Christ.” Gavin muttered, too low for Michael to hear, but the redhead saw that he’d said something.

   “Don’t be a baby, Gavin. Go to prom with me.” He called.

  “Are you asking me or telling me?” Gavin finally found his voice.

  “I’m telling you.” Michael shrugged. “Just waiting for you to confirm that I’ll pick you up at seven.” He said, his smile widening as he saw Gavin laugh.

   Gavin nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, alright then.” He continued to nod and the football team cheered again, some of them slapping Michael on the back as he was placed back down on the grass.

   “Get you’re skinny little self down here then, asshole.” He gestured when Gavin still just stood there. Gavin complied, bounding down the steps like an excited puppy and making a beeline for Michael arms, glad to be encompassed in his embrace. “Hey.” Michael whispered against his hair. “Look at me.”

   Gavin drew back from the hug slightly to meet Michael’s amused gaze and was promptly pulled into a kiss, Michael’s fists firmly grasping the front of Gavin’s shirt, his curls tickling his forehead, and a chorus of wolf whistles and presumptuous shouts rising around them. 


End file.
